


Ashes and Wine

by ScarletNahla



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletNahla/pseuds/ScarletNahla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were enemies first, uneasy allies later and friends once, but time and distance can change many things, what will they be now?<br/>Spun from Reflections and Regular</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had started with a simple summons from a long ago friend.

_Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, your presence is requested_

A reason to go see just a little bit more of the world again.

_by royal invitation from Fire Lord Zuko._

The chance to find a reason once more.

_Your arrival will be looked for._

He couldn't wait.

* * *

The last Fire Nation ship of the season was waiting for him. Him! Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe. His dad was already informed, the personal summons had come in a more formal letter addressed to the Chief, and was waiting in the main room to bid his son farewell. He felt like his chest was too tight as he packed a travel bag, making sure the letter was secure in his tunic, he pressed on his ribs trying to breath. He couldn't make them wait any more.

"Sokka" Strong arms around him and he felt small again, as he always did when his father hugged him. "We have the stores laid in and the trade has been good. There is no need to hurry if you don't want to."

"Dad?"

"Sokka, you have been an asset to this tribe and as Chief I am proud of that, but I know you son and you are not content. As your father I worry. Maybe, like your sister you need more of the world that what we have here."

"Dad, no. I'm-"

"Don't tell me your fine, we both know that's not true. Or if it is, then it's not enough. Come on, we don't want them to leave without you."

He couldn't help the bolt of fear at the thought, even as he was led speechless into the sun.

_He knew?_

"Dad?" He watched the older man face him, then grabbed him in a hug. "Thank you," he whispered, "I'll come back when I can."

His dad chuckled and withdrew patting him on the back. "No rush."

He took as deep a breath as he could with his too tight chest, nodded, and headed toward the ship

* * *

The waiting was always the hardest part, Zuko knew, especially when it was almost over.

Eight years had passed before he had decided to send the missive to his friend. There was regular correspondence between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation but there had never been any personal notes exchanged. Now there was a need, it had taken longer than he'd thought, but it was worth it.

The ship coming home from the South had been sighted a little over two hours ago and the last of the preparations had been finished this morning. Some of his advisers had wanted an official welcome with all the finery and fuss that entailed. He had managed to convince them otherwise. He had also managed to do so without setting anyone's robes on fire.

Eight years and he still had trouble with his temper, with dealing with people, but he knew Sokka. Or at least he had. The amount of fuss and grander would have been to much especially with his own intention of this being a friendly visit.

Fire Lord Zuko made his way to his study in the most casual clothes he could get away with to watch the ship come into port.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a decent ride. The crew was perfectly polite, the room was larger than he expected, and the meals weren't half bad. He had kept to himself and watched the water most of the first three days, until he heard the music. Apparently a few of the men got together to play and sing in the evening. That night had marked a shift in himself. He had laughed like he hadn't in years, had smiled like he meant it, had goofed off and just _enjoyed_ himself.

He felt like he was remembering a dream.

Disembarking onto Fire Nation soil had felt like dream too. He had never done that before, unless you counted the Day of Black Sun but he wasn't going to bring that up. There had even been one of those covered wagons pulled by a dragon moose-lion waiting for him.

And now he was being shown through the palace by a servant, after having his bag whisked off to who knew what room, heading toward familiar corridors. There had been a lot of time spent running, er.. moving quickly and with great manly dignity, towards a new Lord's study or throne room or council chamber or duck pond or training area. Always with new shiny ideas for this problem or that or ideas on how to just relax because _"Zuko if you don't I'm gonna have to beat the new Fire Lord down and that would be bad for the peace"._

Zuko usually just shook his head whenever Sokka would declare that, usually followed by swords drawn.

And then they were making the last turn and Sokka's chest was to small again and he wasn't sure he was still breathing as the servant open the door and bowed. He knew he wasn't as he walked into a achingly familiar study. And he still wasn't as a evening sun framed person turned and looked at him.

"Welcome back, Sokka."

His breath wooshed out of him because there was a smile in Zuko voice, and a warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder, and the too tight feeling was gone replaced by the kind of fullness he hadn't felt in so very long.

He couldn't help the grin that stretched across his own face as he clapped the other man on the shoulder.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be back." His own words wrapped in smiles too. And if they rang with relief, well he didn't really want to think about that to closely. Not right now, not when this man was still his friend and showing him to the same chair by the fire he used to sit in and poring him a drink just like before. Not when Zuko was asking him how his trip went and how the Tribe was doing and it felt as if no time had passed and he had never been slowly worn down by the tide of loneliness and time.

Later he would think about that relief and that feeling of _fullness_ in his chest that lingered hours after he had been shown his room.

Later he would lay in his new bed and think about how _warm_ he feels and how it has nothing to do with the heat of the Fire Nation and everything to do with sitting and talking with the man who rules it.

Later he will think how walking into that study had felt _good_ , the best kind of good there was.

And then after all that he will feel the _warm_ and _good_ and _fullness_ lessen and slide away because he knows it wont last.

* * *

 

If he hadn't seen Sokka's face when he walked into the study Zuko doubted he would have realized something was wrong. Not then, at least. But tan skin had been blanched and he was reasonably sure Sokka hadn't been breathing until he had reached to move him to a chair. A steadying drink with easy conversation seemed the best plan. So he had sat and they had discussed inane things and Sokka had smiled and laughed and relaxed.

It was so close to how they had been, so obvious that this man still considered him a friend, that Zuko felt a rush of relief regardless of his worries. But he could not let go of that strained look on Sokka's face, or the visible relief in his smile. Something had been very wrong before he got to the palace. There was nothing else he could think of.

And the crew's reports weren't helping.

Sitting at his desk well after dark reading the officer's report of a polite but distant young man who was visibly agitated and spent a great deal of time on his own staring at the sea. Sokka had apparently gone to his room shortly after the evening meal and stayed there until breakfast. He had declined all invitations from the crew to mingle, always politely distracted. Until one of the crewmen decided to start Music Night early and Sokka had stayed to listen. After that the report detailed an emergence of the boisterous young man Zuko remembered from the reserved adult Sokka had boarded as.

The report ended with the Captain's concern that his passenger's private farewells had not been good ones and noted that the anxiousness had returned once the Caldera had been sighted.

_So something is wrong, just nothing that happened here._

He would not press for now. He had learned patience, as much as it grated. Tomorrow morning would be spent negotiating with his advisors, but the afternoon was clear. It had taken nearly four years but he had finally managed to have Council sessions down to three mornings a week and Open Court on only one day. Unfortunately he had been unable to do away with the dinners.

But those were old frustrations, for now he needed his bed and sleep. After Council he would focus on finding out how much of a sorely missed friendship still remained and what was bothering Sokka.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Sokka woke up that morning he wasn't sure where he was. Not at first. He knew he was in the Royal Palace, but not really were. Somewhere close to the Royal wing he was mostly sure. They hadn't walked that far from Zuko's private study. Then he opened his eyes.

It was his room. His room from when he had stayed here last. Sokka got out of bed to look at the room. The little bric-a-brac he had left behind was still on the shelves and tables. The bed was still on the far right, low dark wood headboard centered on the wall, shelves still bracketing the bed. The sleeping area was raised, furs covering the floor and the steps down into the rest of the room. The seating area was still arranged to face the balcony overlooking the inner gardens and the black and blue patterned wall hangings were still there. Ocean scenes, mostly, with one Fire Nation tapestry near the bed that had dragons in flight.

Nothing had been changed. It was like he had stepped out for a week instead of years. His chest felt tight again.

The wardrobe was empty save for the bag he had brought with him, the contents already on the shelves or the desk. Oh, his desk! Hours at this thing planning and writing and plotting. One of the things Sokka had spent some serious thought on how to smuggle onto the ship that took him home.

_Home_

The thought stopped him cold.

He wasn't in the South anymore. He wasn't deliriously dreaming about being on a ship headed North. He was-

_Stop. Stop right now. Do your forms, take a bath, and find breakfast._

So Sokka went thru his full range of exercises and was sweating heavily by the end. Memory led him to the enclosed bathing chamber, with its sunken pool. The palace had plumbing to bring hot water up to the Royal Wing, something Sokka had sorely missed. A hot soak did wonders for relaxing after time spent at sea.

There was a knock at the door to the bath, "My lord? Breakfast has been laid for you sir." The voice was cool as ice.

"Thanks!" As good as a hot bath was breakfast was even better. Sokka scrubbed quickly and rinsed, rose and toweled off, set the tub to drain and grimaced at his clothes. They were sweaty and dirty, he hadn't meant to sleep in them last night. He nudged the pile with his toes and eyed the robe hanging by the door. It was a thick soft grey with gold edging. Well he wasn't going to walk out in a towel.

With a sigh Sokka pulled it on, tied the interior tie and then belted it closed.

The man who had called him was standing by the main door when Sokka came out, still rubbing at his hair with the towel. It wasn't something he was used to but he remembered dealing with the servants and stuff last time he was here.

"What's your name, man?"

"Osamu, sir." This was given with a short bow to Sokka.

_Discipline, really, who names their kid that?_

"Ok, Osamu," Sokka couldn't help the grin, "It's been awhile since I've done this but I'm partial to bath then breakfast. Messages and the like while I eat. I don't need help getting dressed unless I'm being stuck into something really fancy-smanshy, and I don't really like those kinds of clothes anyways. Anything I forget?"

"No, sir."

"And you don't have to call me 'sir', Sokka's just fine." he knew that one wouldn't fly but he had to try anyways.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 

Zuko stood next to the window in his study. The same place he had stood yesterday waiting for Sokka to arrive at the palace. Now he watched the courtyard below, waiting for the same man to make an appearance.

There was no knock, the door just opened to admit a blue and black dressed Sokka. In ways it was like the years had never passed, in others he could see them plainly written into his friend.

"Osamu said you wanted to see me." Sokka's voice rose at the end, making it into a question, and he stayed near the door. Anxiety wrapped under goofy grin. But his shoulders were pulled forward and the the smile was brittle.

"Yes, Sokka, please come in. You know you are welcome in here." The reassurance did little to ease his friend's posture, even as he sauntered over the the window to join him.

"I have something for you, it took quite some time to find, but I'm sure you remember my persistence."

That jerked out a laugh from the other man. "Dude, you were like an ice-weavle after penguin eggs."

Zuko shrugged, there was no use arguing. He moved to a side table near the door with a long slim box on top, turned to watch Sokka still looking out the window. "Still, I think you'll appreciate that tendency. Have you been keeping up with your forms?"

He wondered what expression went with the ridge posture Sokka had, watched the other man sigh and deflate, lift a hand a hand to rub his face and turn with a tired smile and shrug. "I guess, I don't really use a sword anymore."

He looked at the pale wood of the box and frowned. "Why?"

"Come on, Zuko. I just don't", frustrated voice and movements, tightness around eyes and mouth, "It's been years since I was needed, anyway."

_Spirits, what happened to him?_

"Sokka."

"No, it fine. I'm fine, sorry. You said you had something for me? I didn't bring you anythin', man." All smiles and loose bady language, a bluff, one Zuko was familiar with. He step aside and gestured to the table top.

"Open the box, Sokka."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

It was a sword.

_It's my sword._

Black and gleaming as the day he made it. Slick and clean edged and impossibly here. He couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Nothing but stare at a blade he knew was forever lost. Another piece of himself spinning away into nothing, impossible to recover.

He was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles where bleached. The air was buzzing and something was clenched around his shoulder. Too tight chest again, no air, black blurred to grey.

_It's my sword._

"..kka, Sokka. Can you hear me?"

Sokka blinked, lifted his head, blinked again. Zuko was crouched next to him, barely contained freak-out written all over him. He was on the floor, how did he get on the floor?

"Sokka?"

He just stared at Zuko.

_He found it._

Tilted his head back against the solid wood behind him.

_Its on top of the table._

Mumbles of "I can't believe I broke him" as Zuko reached for his shoulders.

"Come on Sokka, up." There was undignified shuffling to get him off the floor and into his chair, a throw over his legs. Clicks and clacks and a glass pressed into his hand. The barest nudging and he lifted the glass, threw it back and promptly choked.

"Agni, Sokka! Easy." And Zuko was there, pulling away the glass, slapping him on the back, bracing his shoulder and staring him in the face.

"Talk to me, Sokka, you looked like you'd been gutted." Flinched at the words, shame and heartsick at being unremarkable, feeling like he _had_ been slit open.

"I'm fine Zuko, just..."

Gold eyes were narrow and fierce, the Fire Lord's face set with an expression he couldn't read.

"That is not fine, this in not.."

Shaking his head Sokka managed to push himself out of his chair, Zuko moving to let him up. He felt shaky, unbalanced. This was not something he'd expected to find, not something he could deal with right now.

He didn't know what he said, some kind of excuse so he could flee. Leaving his friend calling after him, worry and panic swirling in the room and trailing behind him in jagged little notes down the hall.

_My sword._

* * *

He knew he was being stupid, couldn't help dragging the furs off the bed so he was pressed up into the corner, bundled up and hiding from the world.

From his friend.

_Probably thinks I've lost it._

Guess he wouldn't be to far off the mark on that one.

Spirits, it had been like being stabbed with his own heart and it had opened up every still seeping wound Sokka had. He knew he was lonely, trapped in a tribe that he should have been thankful for, screaming himself raw inside and it had taken years for him to lock that down, push it away so it didn't matter. To not touch that sucking black mire of _alone useless forgotten_ pain and do his duty as Chief's son, tribesman, hunter.

His Space Sword, something that had been his in a way his sister didn't understand, hadn't wanted to understand. She'd always had her bending, not always been good at it, but she had always had that special thing. He had poured his heart and soul into crafting that blade, had felt the way it resonated, fit his hand and fairly danced with him. It hadn't been _just a sword, Sokka, you can make another_ something he could replace and that loss had only been the first.

_My Sword. He found my sword._

Sokka forced a breath into his too small chest and kept his head buried in the tangle of furs, wet cheeks hidden and body curled as small and as hidden as he could make it. Early afternoon light spilled into the sitting area but his corner past the bed was shadowed and cold.


End file.
